The Rising and Falling of the Sun
by DigimonDragongirl
Summary: First ff.net Treasure Planet fic! Formerly Title Pending. After Jim's mother dies his friends try to comfort him, but instead he runs away to find himself. NEW--Chap 4: Sarah Stevenson (Plus revamped all old chaps and added a glossary for fun!)
1. Death is the End

Disclaimer: Welcome to the first (to my knowledge) Treasure Planet fanfic on ff.net! Of course, characters and stuff don't belong to me, they belong to that Disney company and stuff. Not making money, blah blah blah. And no using my characters of archiving fic without my permission please! Uh, enjoy my creativity! Feel free to review!

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            They buried her less than a week after the first symptoms appeared. The doctors were mystified, could do nothing but stave off the pain. Her son couldn't even do that, and his helplessness led to an inward spiral of withdrawal and frustrated anger.

            He stood beside the grave in silence as others wept or spoke her praises. His clouded blue eyes couldn't look at the sleek, elegant casket being lowered into the ground. He made no response to any sympathetic touch on his shoulder or inquiry made. There were no tears in him. With a steady, rhythmic motion he turned an oval locket over and over in one hand.

            After a fumbling, heartfelt eulogy from Doppler, Jim deemed he'd been there long enough. He didn't understand his friends' insistence that he attend anyway. She was dead. Death was the end. Nothing he did now would affect that. So, ignoring Amelia's stare, he stuck his hands in the pockets of his dress uniform and left the others to continue the service. He didn't look back.

* * *

            "Mr. Hawkins, I don't think you realize the consequences of your choice. Surely this isn't what your mother would want."

            Jim glared at Admiral Point, who was of the same race of rock people as old Mr. Arrow from the Legacy. "Don't tell me what my mother would want," growled the young man. He thrust his red, white and gold uniform onto the Admiral's desk, hearing the clink of medals on the stone surface. "I'm leaving," he clipped out.

            Point sighed. "Don't throw your career away. Interstellar Academy won't let you return if you take off, son."

            "Then I guess this is goodbye."

            Jim held the Admiral's gaze unwaveringly. Abruptly, Point stood and saluted sharply. The human male stared at his superior officer for a moment in surprise, then sketched a return gesture before walking out of the office. He was getting good at not looking back.

* * *

            Jim didn't know how the conversation turned into a shouting match. He had meant to be brief, hand over ownership of the Benbow Inn to Doppler and Amelia, and leave before anyone could react. Of course, he'd underestimated the former captain's reflexes. Before he could get the words out she had guessed his intentions and jumped down his throat. A hurt and shocked expression crossed Doppler's face as he figured it out, which did nothing for the guilt Jim already fought to keep from admitting.

            Finally he couldn't take the accusations of abandoning his friends, betraying his mother, throwing away his life and all he fought for any longer. "I don't need your permission to live my own life!" he snarled at Amelia, cutting her off.

            The feline woman's green eyes blazed. "James Hawkins, if you think running away from your problems will solve ANYTHING—"

            "Well maybe I need to figure that out for myself! All I know is that nothing means anything to me anymore! NOTHING!" Emotions frayed, he found himself speaking more honestly to his old friends than he had since Sarah's death.

            "Jim, this was a devastation to all of us," Doppler whispered sadly. "If you'd just let us help you. . . ."

            The astronomer was silenced by a look. "I'll help myself, thanks," Jim snorted. Anger was easier to deal with than the pain his friends were asking him to express, so he used that. "Look, sell the damn place for all I care. I don't need _it_ and I don't need any of _you." He turned his back on the couple and strode for the door._

            "Jim!" came the gasp from behind him.

            He slammed the door behind him.

            Outside the young man paused, waiting for them to come after him. But seconds ticked by and no one emerged. To be honest, he hadn't meant to say those things. His mouth hadn't run away from him like that since he was younger, before he began his Interstellar Academy training. With a sigh—why did these things happen to him?—he sat down on a barrel beside the door and buried his face in his knees. One hand slipped into his pocket and curled around his mother's oval locket. His eyes burned, but tears wouldn't come.

            Eventually he felt a tug at his shirt. Lifting his head, Jim found himself looking into the big green eyes of Amelia and Doppler's oldest daughter, Amy. "Oo wook _sad," said the kitten toddler. She offered a tiny hand, in which was clenched a pink blossom. "Fwower for oo?"_

            Even in his turmoil Jim could manage a smile for the child. "Thank you, Amy," he said, taking the flower. "It's very beautiful."

            She giggled as she curtsied and, with a typical child attention span, ran off without another word. Jim sighed again and stood. He was tempted to go back through the front door, sort things out with Doppler and Amelia. Instead he did something else he hadn't done in years: he grabbed the trailing vine twining around the side of the inn and scaled the wall up to roof, slipping into the loft where he slept.

            Though he very rarely wore them, he did still have clothes like he had back in his adventuring days (all those long outgrown by now, of course). These days he wore clothing that made him look a little more mature, finding that to be the only way adults would take him seriously. But if he was going to be traveling alone and didn't want to be messed with, he had to look the part. Therefore he pulled on well-worn tan kahki pants and a lighter shirt. For a moment he hesitated, then remembered he _did have a leather jacket that fit. He'd spotted it in a shop once and bought it for nostalgia's sake. After he slung it on he checked himself in the mirror. Not bad. He wished he hadn't been so punctual on trimming his hair the last time, though._

            His own reflection seemed to be glaring at him from the past. Funny, he thought he'd left that pale, angry kid behind years ago. And here they were again, face to face. Without conscious thought Jim's hand strayed into the small drawer below the glass oval and withdrew with his old golden hoop earring. His ear had long since healed over (earrings were not encouraged in Interstellar Academy). The youth stared at the flash of gold in his hand for long, silent moments. In his mind he could see his mother's sorrowful gaze. He knew the exact expression she would wear if she knew he was returning to his old ways.

            He would never see that expression again.

            There was a burst of pain as he shoved the pointed back of the hoop through his left earlobe. He sucked in a breath through clenched teeth as he wiped away a drop of blood.

            A trilling voice burbled concern from the dresser. Two round eyes popped from a puddle of reddish goo.

            Jim's anger was replaced with concern. "Hey, Morph, you feeling better?" The protoplasmic shapeshifter hadn't been himself since Sarah took ill. He spent most of his time in Jim's room as an indistinguishable puddle. At the human's words the eyes popped back into the puddle without a sound. He continued anyway. "Listen, I'm gonna be gone for a while. You should stay here and help out. You can explain things to B.E.N. when he gets back from that navigating job. Don't worry about me, I'll—"

            The little blob shrieked and zipped up off the dresser, squeaking miserably as he clung to Jim's shoulder.

            "Oh, oh, hey little guy, don't worry. Shhh. What's wrong?"

            Morph twirled into a tiny figure of Sarah Hawkins, and the sight tore her son's heart. Her face was hidden in her hands as she cried. He couldn't stand seeing her, but didn't have the nerve to reach out and touch the shapeshifter to stop him. Jim closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to see. He tried to speak, had to cough before he found his voice. "I understand, Morph. I won't leave you. I promise."

            Returning to his usual form, the blob's big eyes peeked apprehensively at Jim over his tiny round appendages. "You can come with me," Jim assured his little friend.

            With a happy squeak Morph clung to Jim's cheek for a second, then floated around the room with more gusto than the young man had seen all week. He grinned. At least he did _something_ right. Throwing a few odds and ends into a duffel bag, Jim climbed out the window and slid down the trailing vines to the ground. Morph burbled from his shirt pocket as he threw the bag over one shoulder and began walking toward the spaceport. He couldn't think of any other place to go.

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I'm honestly not positive where I'm going with this. If you have any ideas feel free to give them in a review. It might spark something in my scatterbrained head. ^_^


	2. Running Away or Toward

Geesh, you people really wanna see Silver again, huh? LOL. I personally thought he was a rather cliché character, your standard bad-guy-with-heart-of-gold-turns-good-at-last-minute character, but he wasn't too bad. He'll probably show up in the fic eventually. (If I don't put him in here I might be faced with a mutiny of my own here! LOL!)

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            Things hadn't changed much in the three years since Jim's first trip to Crescentia. He left Montressor on a space ferry bound for the curve-shaped spaceport, though this time his companion was a tiny blob of protoplasm, not a bumbling astrophysicist. Even that thought didn't hurt so much now. He allowed himself a small smile as he remembered.

            Just as Jim had taken a few steps down the path that led from the Benbow Inn, Amy and her three siblings came tumbling out the front door. Amelia and Doppler followed. He set his shoulders for a fight, but the adults were smiling (albeit sadly).

            "Always had to do things the hard way, didn't you, young rapscallion?" smirked the former galleon captain. "I expect you to sail back to home port at the end of all this in one piece."

            Doppler shook his hand gravelly. "We will, of course, be happy to manage for you temporarily. However, your ownership will promptly resume upon your return. Is that clear?" Jim noted in amusement how hard the canine scientist fought to muster the strictest expression he could.

            He surprised them both by pulling them into a fierce hug. There were times he wondered if anyone truly understood him, and these two had just proven that they did. Morph, squished in the middle, squeezed out as a trail of bubbles and chittered his indignation. Instantly the kids were demanding hugs, sensing something wrong with "Uncle Jimmy." He obliged them, content with the knowledge that it was now okay to leave. A great weight felt lifted from his shoulders. Knowing home would be safe left his mind free for one single question—

            "Now arriving at spaceport Crescentia. All passengers bound for Crescentia prepare to depart."

            Jim stood and grabbed his bag, train of thoughts forgotten. He whistled for the morph, who was floating behind some fish lady's shoulder and mimicking her puckered expression. (The lady's child thought it hilarious, anyway.)

            Together the duo emerged from the cramped space ferry onto the brightly-lit spaceport, illuminated into daylight by Montressor's sun. The unmistakable scent of the etherium, unblocked by any planetary atmosphere, filled Jim's lungs. Now there was a smell you never got tired of.

            They made their way through the crowded streets, Jim avoiding as much interaction with people as possible. At spaceports that was just a smart idea. Morph didn't share his cautions, as usual. The curious creature zipped this way and that, little tongue hanging out as he panted in excitement. At least he never wandered far or for long, Jim reflected. He was heartened by the fact that the shapeshifter's color had returned to a more normal pink. The reddish hue he'd developed the past week had been worrying him.

            With ease Jim found a merchant ship registrar. If anything was always looking for crewmen on a spaceport, it was a merchant ship. He got in line behind a hulking brute of an alien and it wasn't until he'd been standing for ten minutes that he realized he didn't have any place to go. He grabbed the first thing that came to his mind as the hulk went shuffling off on three legs. "Got anything going to Gossamar?" he asked.

            The registrar, a fat feathered alien, looked him up and down and sneered in contempt. "You don't look strong enough to hoist a sail, let alone haul cargo," he piped in a high voice that would have been laughable in another situation.

            Jim scowled and shoved his identification onto the table between them. At the registrar's touch a small three-dimensional hologram of the youth sprang up, along with a scrolling line of information beside it. He waited as the registrar read his history with yellow eyes squinted, then gave him another going over. "Says yer out of Interstellar Academy, huh?"

            Jim rolled his eyes. The Academy never was one to wait long to update their information. "Gonna answer the question?" he said, instead of responding to the comment.

            "Answer the question?" Morph echoed sternly.

            With a ruffle of his feathers, the registrar handed back his identification. "RLS _Medley leaves in two days, at dawn. Take it or leave it."_

            "I'll take it."

            "Huh." The alien hesitated, probably trying to think of some reason to keep Jim off the register. Finally he snorted and opened the book on the table to the correct holographic screen. Jim pressed his thumb onto the first free line under the list of other crewmembers. His full name, James Pleiades Hawkins, appeared beside his thumbprint.

            "Seventh sector, third level, berth ten. Good day."

            Jim had no idea what made him do it—some unconscious, implausible hope—but he found himself asking before he could walk off. "Uh, would there be any way you could check and see if a man named John Silver is signed up?"

            Irritated, the registrar paged through his book. "What ship?" he demanded shortly.

            "I'm . . . not sure. I, er, don't even know if he's on Crescentia."

            The yellow eyes went from irritated to irate. "Get going, bilge water, and stop wasting my time." As added incentive the person in line behind Jim gave him a distinct prod. He took the not-so-subtle hints and moved on.

            Morph, now sitting contently on his shoulder, turned into a miniature of Jim. "Got anything going to Gossamar?" he repeated verbatim.

            "Oh, that?" He shrugged. The little Jim wiggled back into the pink blob with the movement. "Off the top of my head. Mom used to mention spending some time there when she was younger. Thought I'd check it out."

            Morph squeaked something comforting and cuddled his cheek, then slid into his breast pocket for a nap.

* * *

            They spent the two days in a rented room above a bar. Money wasn't a worry at the present, as long as he was careful. The inactivity was the prospect that worried Jim. With nothing to occupy it, his mind was plagued with memories he would rather not remember and nightmares he wished he could forget. On the first evening he left Morph in the room and went down to the bar to see if alcohol would fix his thinking problem.

            The bartender was a whip-thin and scarred woman who would have fit right in beside Birdbrain Mary in Silver's old pirate crew. At eighteen he was underage, but she didn't ask to see his identification to check. She _did keep one of her five eyes on him, until she was satisfied that he was a quiet drunk and not the troublesome sort. Jim got himself good and muddled before he paid his tab and stumbled upstairs to collapse into bed. There were no nightmares, at least._

            In the morning he couldn't decide if a hangover was worth his evasion of unpleasant dreams. Morph's squeaks grated on his head until he sent the shapeshifter to fetch breakfast. Too late he realized what a foolish idea that had been. He pulled on clothes and stumbled out of the room, spending a sore fifteen minutes searching for the little blob. Finally he floated up to Jim of his own accord, looking satisfied and overly round. The morph burped appreciatively for whatever he had been into.

            This was not Jim Hawkins first experience with alcohol, but it wasn't one of his better ones.

            Stubborn as an old cyborg pirate, Jim refused to learn his lesson and had a repeat performance the second night. He awoke to Morph's prodding chatter in his ear. " 'Ut up, M'ph," he managed over the pounding in his temples.

            The shapeshifter promptly peeled back an eyelid. Jim found his eyeball two centimeters from a blurry replica of the feathered registrar. "RLS _Medley leaves in two days, at dawn. Take it or leave it," said Morph. There was a pause as it sunk into Jim's foggy brain. Then—_

            "Shit!" He burst out of bed. The Montressor sun was moments away from making an appearance on Crescentia. Pain forgotten, Jim raced around the room and gathered his things before he burst through the door, Morph at his heels. He winced as the brisk, predawn air hit his senses. Well, pain almost forgotten.

            It was close, but they made it aboard with nothing more than an unfavorable glance from the captain. Jim was completely satisfied with being a working member of the crew. There was hardly ever a moment on the _Medley for stray thoughts. You did your work, then slept like the dead to rise early and do your work again. It wasn't fun—not an adventure like the _Legacy_'s had been—but it was honest, satisfying, and kept his mind away from unpleasant memories he didn't want to deal with at the moment. Morph amused any of the other crewmen with a sense of humor. Two of the other crewmen, a blue Harklan named Snitch and a small insectoid called Runt, spent their free time swapping stories with Jim. (He avoided mentioning his trip to Treasure Planet, having long since learned it brought all sorts of unwanted attention your way.) A week flew by and before the young man could realize it, they were preparing to enter the Gossamarian atmosphere._

            Gossamar was a small planet. It didn't have any spaceports, but it did take advantage of its beautiful landscapes through tourism and had a solid import and export system set up with a few other worlds. To accommodate this there was one port, a part of Port City, located on the planet. Large sailing vessels used it to dock and exchange goods and people.

            Jim joined the rest of the crew in bringing the _Medley_ down through the cloud-strewn atmosphere and securing the great merchant ship to the towering docking stations. Once the vessel was anchored to the captain's specifications, the cargo was unloaded and packed onto carts drawn by winged animals native to the planet. The carts were driven off to make their slow, winding procession down the docking station to the ground level of the port. Then Jim, Snitch, and the other crewmen who had only signed up for a one-way trip were paid and everyone went off in separate directions.

            After nodding a goodbye to the two friends he had made, Jim was happy to find a faster way down to the planet's surface. The winged beast-of-burden animals—Arvians they were called, looking something like a large version of the mantabirds that populated spaceports like Crescentia—could be ridden as well as made to pull vehicles. A native Gossamarian (who was also winged) was renting them out.

            With Morph clinging to his shoulder in a quivering mass, Jim eagerly grabbed the reins and leaped onto the creature's smooth back. The feisty Arvian took off the instant he was settled. It fought Jim for the reins, but he guided it firmly as they soared over the port and its adjoining city. Past the site of bustling alien activity stretched wide plains separated by sparse forests of golden trees, gleaming in the midmorning light. His spirited Arvian dipped and swerved through the landscape of flora and cavorted through the air. Caught up in the rush of flight, Jim threw back his head and yelled. "Whoo-hoo!"

            "Whoo-hoo," Morph echoed less enthusiastically.

            "What are you worried about?" he chuckled. "You float anyway—whoops!" Taking advantage of his distraction, the Arvian gleefully took a nosedive straight toward the ground. He yanked the reins until they were skimming just over the rolling countryside. The tall grass parted under them with the force of the wind they created.

            Jim lost track of time as they explored Gossamar. Eventually the Arvian accepted him as the navigator, though it seemed to sense he didn't know the lay of the land. The planet didn't appear very populated to the brown-haired youth. Port City was by far the most urban area. Other than a few towns and hamlets he didn't see any other colonized places. The geography was mostly grass and plains, with a lesser degree of forests. Toward early afternoon they found a small mountain range. The Arvian apparently decided it had been behaving for long enough and struggled to take them down among the crags and cliffs. Jim was all for it, so he gave the beast its head and they plunged down.

            But the Arvian wasn't interested in playing this time. Jim laughed as it brought them in close, hovering above the rocky slopes to scrape the moss off the stones and slurp it up with a long tongue. "Break time, I guess," he told Morph.

            The glob of pink goo zipped off his shoulder and trilled a hungry sound. Jim realized they hadn't eaten since early morning, and that had been ship rations. With the reins firmly in hand, he dismounted and slung his duffel bag off his shoulder. Morph dived in before he could, emerging with a dried purp that he immediately began gnawing.

            Jim grabbed a sandwich to munch on as he tied the Arvian to a scrub bush. It didn't mind, as there was plenty of moss within tongue-reaching distance.

            The view from their spot was breathtaking. Behind and to the right the craggy mountains rose one after another, the sun just touching the top of the highest peak. Ahead and on the left it seemed like the whole of Gossamar stretched out like a carpet, thousands of miles below. With nothing else living in sight, the three of them could have been the only creatures in the universe.

            Jim suddenly found himself now unable to think about anything but his mother, and how much he wished she were here to see this with him (which had probably been the plan of his traitorous unconscious all along, damn it). Her death . . . it wasn't fair. He'd found Treasure Planet, had avenged anyone Captain Flint had ever stolen from with its destruction. He'd become the model citizen, the best and the brightest, always played by the rules. He'd done everything that was expected of him from everyone, even his mother. Especially his mother.

            Where did it say that the hero got screwed in the end? Is this what was going to happen with everyone he knew? _They say all you can do is your best, but it's a lie,_ Jim thought bitterly. Your best was never enough. He gave his best, and he still watched them walk out of his life. His father, and now his mother. If this was what playing by the rules got you, maybe it was time to stop playing by the rules.

            Which brought him back to Gossamar. Sarah Hawkins had mentioned it often to her son, but in the fanciful way one remembers a meaningful vacation that could never be recaptured in the same way. He'd never felt the incentive to come here himself. He wasn't the sightseeing type. She never took him, either. By the time he was in the picture his mother was no longer interested in leaving Montressor, for vacationing or any other reason. But she did tell stories. At the age of twenty she had stayed in Port City with her family for a month, been charmed by the little shops and inns. She'd loved to explore the countryside (a fact which had surprised a young Jim Hawkins, who couldn't imagine his mother exploring _anything). She talked about old friends in a way that he now suspected meant they'd gotten into their fair share of mischief, though she'd never told him any specifics for fear of "giving him ideas." God, would he find any of those old friends here? Would he have to be the one to tell them? He didn't know if he could. . . ._

            A soft bump on his elbow brought Jim to his senses. Startled, he found the Arvian hovered beside him, reins trailing on the ground. Looking around for the scrub bush he saw Morph snoozing on his bag, and found only small particles of the bush hanging from the creature's lips. "Oh, you eat more than just moss, huh?" he smirked at the beast. The young human leaned forward slowly, but the Arvian floated backward out of reach. Its tail whipped furiously like an ecstatic puppy.

            Jim relaxed, shoulders slipping down a few inches. He and the beast stared each other straight in the eye, measuring. On his next intake of breath he threw himself forward in a rush and grabbed the dangling reins. "HA!"

            The Arvian wheeled around, and the already off-balance Jim went sprawling near the edge of the drop-off. His boots skittered on loose debris as he scrambled for footing, but the Arvian swung out over the open air and—with his hand still tangled in the rein—Jim went with it.

            "Note to self: don't spook an Arvian next to a precipice," he muttered to himself through clenched teeth, wrapping his other hand in the thin leather strip that was keeping him from plummeting to an untimely death far below. Dangling like a worm on a fishhook was not his idea of a good time.

            The Arvian wasn't used to such a weight pulling on its head. It spun in a circle and bobbed around, shrieking as it tried to dislodge the uncomfortable anchor. However, the uncomfortable anchor wasn't interested in being dislodged. He clung on and prayed the halter wouldn't slip over the thing's head.

            After the aerial acrobatics didn't work it slowed, and Jim thought maybe it was calming down. The next thing he knew they were heading straight for the rock wall of their high perch. The crazy beast was trying to scrape him off using the mountain! He braced himself for impact.

            "Oof," he grunted, then blinked in surprise as his head hit a fluffy pillow instead of stone. The Arvian backed off for another go and he watched the pillow turn back into Morph, who squeaked in distress at his friend's predicament. "Distract him!" Jim called to the little shapeshifter.

            Before the Arvian could plunge forward again, Morph zoomed up and jiggled before its eyes. It didn't seem to be doing much good until he morphed into a patch of moss. The food instinct overrode its panic and it darted forward to snap at the floating morsel. Morph led the winged creature up the mountain face and onto the ledge where they had rested. As soon as Jim's feet touched ground again he threw his weight backwards and hauled on the reins. Morph shot to safety as, hand over hand, he reeled in the Arvian. Its wings buffeted him, but he hung on and finally got an arm around its neck. After he covered its ice blue eyes with his hands it, like other domesticated animals unable to see, settled down and put its trust in Jim.

            "Whew. Almost went solar surfing without the surfer," he remarked wryly, cautiously easing the reins back over the Arvian's head. It nudged his elbow, all good graces and amiability now. Its thin tail flipped back and forth.

            Morph was taking shelter in his duffel bag when he went to reclaim it. "It's okay now, little guy," he assured the blob. "You did a great job. Thanks." Morph burbled happily, but didn't venture to come out when invited to. Jim shrugged and slung it back over his shoulder with the shapeshifter still inside.

            The shadows on the ground were long. "Time to get going," the youth announced to his two companions. "I've only rented this crazy thing for the day, and I wouldn't mind being under a roof tonight too. What say we head back to Port City, Morph?"

            "Port City, Port City," chirped his bag. With a grin Jim mounted and steered the Arvian back the way they came.

* * *

            The trip back was faster than the trip out, thanks in part to the fact that the Arvian was tired from its little adventure. After returning it to its renter, Jim and Morph went strolling the streets of Port City. The evening was upon them and they were fortunate enough to quickly find what they sought: an inn to crash for the night. Above the door swung a wooden sign with the words The Gentle Inn in stylized red letters.

            Morph, again settled in his usual spot on Jim's shoulder, wiggled and squeaked with excitement. The young man took this as a positive sign and pushed open the door, spilling warm yellow light into the street. A meal and a bed awaited, and that would be a good end to the day.

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I'm so evil, getting Disney characters all drunk and swearing. =) I have plans for Jim now. Ooohhh yesss. *rubs hands together evilly* Plans.

TP Trivia: Anyone wondering what this "etherium" thing that keeps popping up in Treasure Planet is? The word was confusing the heck out of me, along with the fact that all the characters seemed to be breathing fine in space. I learned from the "making of" book that the etherium is the Treasure Planet universe's version of space. But this space isn't freezing cold and empty. It's filled with atmosphere, creatures, and currents. Kinda like a combination of space and the ocean. Cool or what? ^_^


	3. Evening Entertainment

Dialogue, my reviewers tell me, so I put in more dialogue. Hope it's enough for you all. Sorry that it's a short chapter. I'm switching point-of-views and wanted to end it there.

Define obsession: You're in college and yet you buy the junior novelization for references for a fanfic. *sweatdrop*

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            Biases aside, the inn—though quaint—couldn't compare to the Benbow. Similarly, the main floor was an eating area, but the light of the dusty oil lamps couldn't reach the corners of the room. Along one wall stretched a long bar, where most of the light was focused. The further from the bar, the less reputable the customers looked (now that was somewhat ironic). The diners here looked like your average port rabble, unlike the Benbow's main clientele of mostly native families.

            Jim didn't want to start trouble, so he headed for the bar, away from the shadows of the room. Immediately something caught his attention that he had missed in his initial scan of the area: there was a girl sitting there. She was singing.

            He couldn't imagine how he had failed to see her. She had forgone a chair and was sitting on the bar itself, a fact that the male bartender didn't seem to mind. Her wings and the three short spiral horns on her forehead tipped her off as a Gossamarian. The overly large shirt and tattered, baggy pants revealed that she wasn't having the greatest financial security at the moment. Highlights in her wings and blonde hair caught the lamplight as she manipulated some musical instrument in her lap, producing a variety of tones as she sang softly about the beauty of the etherium.

            Morph wondered why his friend was just standing around in the middle of the room when there were such good food smells everywhere. He shaped himself into a hand to wave back in forth in front of the human's face, burbling inquisitively, but was ignored. Morph sighed in disappointment. He hoped dinner wasn't _too far away._

            Jim wasn't staring. He wasn't. He was listening to the lyrics of the song.

_Black, blue broken by beauty_

_Stars and moons move gracefully_

_Like crystals on crushed velvet_

_They dance the dance of eternity_

_It's hard to get it_

_If you're not out in it_

_But there's so much more to life than you and me_

_It's an etherium melody_

            It only took him a few minutes to realize that standing in the middle of the room and watching the singer could perhaps be interpreted as staring by less knowledgeable people. Feeling his cheeks warm, he hurriedly grabbed a stool at the bar close to the door.

            Morph squeaked happily as he ordered dinner for two from a sullen but polite busboy that slipped up to be of service. After the attendant left Morph twirled into an image of a younger Jim wearing what the busboy had on. The tiny mimic stuck his hands in his pockets and kicked the imaginary ground listlessly in the perfect imitation of a teenage sulk.

            Grinning crookedly, Jim poked him until he returned to his less solid state. "No, I wasn't like that when I was younger," he informed the blob. Said blob only continued to look smug.

            That smugness was replaced with a pout when Jim's attention returned to the female singer at the other end of the bar. Even the arrival of their meals couldn't interest him. Morph stole the bacon from his plate to get even, as well as inhaling everything on his own.

            A few scattered appendages around the room applauded as the song came to an end, proving the girl had at least some other listeners. On the tabletop beside her sat a metal drinking cup, which clinked as two coins were tossed in for her efforts.

            "Thank you for your patronage." The Gossamarian spoke in a voice slightly deeper than her singing voice. She slid her instrument into a satchel hanging at her side. "Allow me to conclude the night's entertainment with my extensive knowledge of legends and tales from around the universe. Any requests?"

            At once a young green lizard sitting nearby waved a paw in the air. "Tell about Treasure Planet!" he squawked in an outrageously grating voice.

            Some people laughed. The winged girl grinned, her green eyes dancing. "Treasure Planet? Come on, that's old news, little one. A century ago it wouldn't even do to mention such a thing openly in a strange bar like this one." Her tone dropped, as if sharing a secret, yet Jim could still clearly hear her on the other end of the bar. "Old Captain Flint could show up anywhere—anytime. The very mention of his name was bad luck for folk like you and me. Oh ho, but for others, for real spacers with guts and brains and heart, that old pirate's wealth was too good an opportunity to pass up. Why, even years after Flint and his crew disappeared, people were still sure his treasure was around. Hidden on the fabled Treasure Planet for anyone to find. Imagine it, the loot of a thousand—"

            "Everyone know that!" the lizard interrupted. Gleaming yellow eyes with huge black pupils dominated his face. "Tell us the _other_ story about Treasure Planet!"

            "Oooohhhh. _That one. All right, all right." Her voice was laced with good humor. Clearly she was enjoying herself. "Well, you might have heard that there __was one spacer with the guts and the brains and the heart to seek out Treasure Planet. He knew it was his destiny to find the legendary hoard since his birth. He prepared for it his whole life. He had no fear. His name . . . it was Jim Hawkins."_

            "Oh no," a certain young male groaned quietly, suddenly very interested in his food.

            The girl was immersed in her tale and gave no indication that she noticed. "A couple years ago Hawkins heard tell that a band of pirates had a true map to Treasure Planet. He knew this was his chance! Without hesitating a moment he snuck aboard the pirates' ship while it was docked at a spaceport to steal the map. Not that he was a bad guy, mind you. The pirates stole it first. Anyway, Hawkins was no pirate. He _never_ took from anybody who didn't deserve it, and he always helped someone in distress. He was going to use Flint's trove to help all the races of the Empire!"

            "Oh brother," muttered Jim under his breath.

            "With nothing but his wits about him, he hid himself on the pirates' ship and began his search. But before he could find it the ship set sail into the etherium, and now Hawkins had nowhere to run. He could not escape. But did this deter him?"

            "No way!" piped up the lizard. Jim was beginning to think he was some sort of sidekick or mascot for the girl.

            She grinned at the little character. "Right on. He wasn't daunted at all. He broke into the captain's stateroom and stole the map, then made for one of the ship's longboats. Along the way he found a hold with people tied up inside. It was the true captain and some of her crew! The pirates hadn't killed them when they stole the ship in case they needed hostages, you see. Suddenly a loud alarm rang through the ship. Hawkins knew they'd been discovered. He told the captain to take her people and prepare a longboat.

            " 'What about you?' gasped the panicked woman—"

            ("We can't repeat any of this when we get home. Amelia'll kill us both," said Jim.

            "Can't repeat any of this," Morph repeated, bobbing up and down in a nod.)

            The Gossamarian continued on without pause. "—Hawkins stared the captain right in the eye. 'I'm going to stop this,' he vowed, and left the hold.

            "He was a master at not being seen, when he wanted to. Hawkins made his way to the thrusters' generator and then the laser cannons, disabling them all. Halfway back to the longboats . . . pirates poured from the woodwork! Hawkins was surrounded on all sides, trapped!

            "A mop was leaning against the wall, and Hawkins grabbed it for use as a cutlass." She held out her arm as if she had such a weapon herself, waving her hand about. "He outmaneuvered and disarmed the whole lot. He moved like a Zandarian slug in a blog pool. He was—"

            Deep, rock-crunching laughter cut her off. From the immediate wary frown on her face, Jim guessed the Gossamarian recognized the voice. He glanced around and spotted a Cerulean sitting at a table near the back. The alien's serrated fangs spread in a taunting leer. "One spacer with a mop against a whole hoard o' pirates, ya?" he mocked. Several conversations stopped, catching the sudden tension. The lizard sitting near the girl turned and bared tiny fangs at the Cerulean.

            Jim was surprised that he was gripping the tabletop tightly. He didn't even know the girl, and here he was almost ready to jump up and interfere. Of course, it wasn't exactly equal. The Cerulean was over twice the size of the girl, and it was obvious from his tone that he wanted to start something.

            Eyebrows furrowed, the winged female looked about to say something in anger. Then her expression melted into a simple smile. "That's right, Shingsti," she nodded, proving that she did know him. "But this wasn't just any simple spacer. This was Jim Hawkins! No band of stupid pirates were gonna stop him. He sent them all running!" The tension was gone. Her lizard fan cheered for the hero of the story.

            "Anyway, that's not the biggest part of the tale by a long shot!" enthused the girl. "All of them made it to the longboats and escaped. Thanks to Hawkins, the pirates couldn't follow or shoot them out of the etherium. And with the map they _did_ find Treasure Planet! It was a glorious planet completely _covered in gold and Arcturian solar crystals and every other form of wealth you can possibly imagine! Of course, Hawkins and the crew couldn't take much of it back in their little longboat. But now that they had the map they could come back as often as they needed. It was a grand celebration they had on their little vessel, which they christened the _Victory_ for getting them there safely._

            "Just as they were about to point the bow towards home, a dark spec appeared in the etherium. It was the pirates! They had fixed the engines, trailed the _Victory_, and now they knew where Treasure Planet was!" A hushed gasp came from the green reptile as she paused.

            The Gossamarian's face was sober now, her voice subdued. "Hawkins knew what he had to do. If pirates knew the location of Treasure Planet, they'd use the legendary wealth for evil. Hawkins realized he had to make sure no one could ever use Flint's trove like that. It was blood money, earned through the pain and suffering of others. So Hawkins went down to the planet and found among the treasures advanced technology, and he built a giant bomb. He tried to warn the pirates, but they thought he was trying to trick them. He and the crew escaped on the _Victory as the loot of a thousand worlds was destroyed once and for all." She finally fell silent, her wings drooping a little like another person would slump their shoulders. "And so ends the tale of Treasure Planet." Though her voice was full of regret, even Jim from his distance could see the glint of humor in her eye. She was acting for the sake of the story._

            After a respectable moment of silence the lizard broke out into applause, clapping his front paws together. No one else did, though many of the listeners were chortling or otherwise amused. They had taken the tale as a joke apparently. Shingsti stood from his table and stretched his four muscular arms over his head. "I suppose this little longboat escaped the destruction o' a' entire planet and made it all the way back to a habitable place with no problem, ya girl?" he drawled loudly, shuffling toward the door.

            "Of course they did," she sniffed at his retreating back, as if the answer should be obvious. "They were the heroes, after all." That set off another ripple of low laughter. Her storytelling didn't turn out to be as profitable as her singing; no one put anything in her cup.

            Perhaps discouraged enough to call it quits for the night, she jumped down from the bar and grabbed her rattling can of earnings. Jim—_not staring, just curious—subtly watched as the quadruped lizard trotted up to her. "I thought it was good," he consoled her. She smiled and thanked him._

            "Grabbing dinner tonight before you go home, Sarah?" asked the barkeep behind the bar.

            _Sarah!? Jim was stunned. A chill slipped up his spine, the kind of disturbing feeling one gets when things are falling into place just a little too smoothly. He missed her answer in his shock but evidently she declined, since she was heading for the door. Jim composed himself as the girl neared. She didn't look older than sixteen. She did look thin. Remembering some tight times back before the old Benbow Inn burned down, the young man felt a pang of sympathy. Then an idea came to him, and before he could think twice he plunged in. Just as the girl walked by he turned in his stool to face her. "S-Sarah?" It was strange calling someone by his mother's name._

            Green eyes zeroed in on him and blinked. "Yeah?" She pushed a long strand of hair, blonde with darker brown streaks, behind one of her horns.

            "I, um, liked your performance. Would you wanna join me for dinner?" he asked.

***************

I want to warn you all right now: I have some plans for future chapters that I see are appearing in other ff.net Treasure Planet fanfics. I just want to assure all you authors that I'm not stealing your ideas. These things have been stewing in my brain for a long while now. It'll probably make the fic less popular, since it won't be as interesting as if it were completely original, but I feel stronger about keeping to my already planned plot than to try to think up a totally different direction to take it in. Hope you all forgive me.


	4. Sarah Stevenson

Sorry for the wait folks. I hope you all find it worth it. ^_^ (And a note to all who don't believe in the power of reviewing: I got a review on one of my _other_ fanfics yesterday encouraging me to work on this fic and it inspired me to go back, finish the last page and load it up! Ta da!)

Cannoe: Thanks for the kick in the butt. ^_^

Mugendai: Don't worry, I haven't forgotten the dragons!

Lavondyss: I'm not too fond of romances myself, but I have to follow where my muses direct me. *helpless grin* I don't know exactly where this is going myself, honestly. I write as things come to me.

***************

            Sarah Stevenson hadn't even noticed the person at the bar until he called her name. Surprise and excitement overtook her as she recognized him as human. She'd only seen one other before her entire life. However, her initial reaction was quickly dampened by mistrust.

            It was a sane response for a sixteen-year-old female meeting a strange male in a bar. Though she could practically feel her stomach curling against her spine, she waved away his offer. Her money couldn't go towards food at the moment anyway. "Thanks, but I'm not eating."

            On the other hand, never let it be said that she didn't take advantage of an opportunity. "But if you'd like to contribute. . . ." She held out her cup with a small grin.

            The human's eyebrow rose in a calculating expression. He wasn't stupid, for all his clothes said he was your average port flotsam. He jerked a thumb at the stool beside him. "I'll pay."

            Sarah debated mentally. Mac didn't like it when people caused trouble in his inn, and she knew he had a soft spot for her. It would be safe as long as she stayed by the bar. And a free meal was awfully tempting. . . . But before she took a seat she wanted one thing clear. "Look, guy, if you want a bed partner for the night I'm not—"

            "_Just. Dinner." She could see his frustration at her stubbornness, and it made her want to laugh. He thought she'd just plop herself down and do whatever he said, did he? Oh, what the hell. Who was she to argue with free food?_

            She waved Mac over as she seated herself on the stool next to the human. "I guess I am having dinner after all," she told the Ellenvood barkeep, who was especially tall for his race and made great cocktails.

            "Usual?"

            "Nah, I'll go all out this time, thanks." Mac winked at her, guessing her scheme no doubt. She turned back to the human, and from his half-amused, half-exasperated expression he figured it out as well. "Well? What's this all about?" she demanded to know.

            He blinked. "Uh. . . ." Oh, great. He didn't know either. Stupid boys and their stupid hormones. While he searched for something to say, she looked at him more carefully. He was older than she was, probably around eighteen or nineteen. Taller too, though it was hard to tell sitting down. The thing that caught her attention the most was his eyes. He had this way of looking, with his chin tucked down so he had to stare up at her through his eyebrows. It didn't make him look sneaky, it made him look . . . like he was protecting himself from something. Or somebody. No one had ever looked at Sarah that way before. She couldn't help but wonder what this guy was about.

            "I'm new around here," the young man finally settled on, and she blinked back to the present. "I don't know my way around real well. But . . . uh, I haven't seen many Gossamarians about."

            Small talk. Fine, she could do that. " 'Only foolish Gossamarians hang around Port City,'" she quipped, quoting an old expression.

            "And that would make you?"

            Oh, he actually had a sense of humor! "That would make me only half-Gossamarian," the girl smirked. "My da's human, like you. Funny, because he's the only human I've ever seen on Gossamar before now. But he tells me there were some other families, quite a while ago. He even named me after an old friend of his. She left—uh, are you okay?"

            The youth straightened up so fast his hair bounced into his eyes. Yeah, he was a good half head taller than she was, Sarah noted. "W-who is he?" he stuttered. There was a frantic look in his blue eyes that concerned her.

            "My da? His name's Harley Stevenson. You wouldn't know him, I don't think. That'd be some coincidence."

            Whatever recognition the guy was looking for, he didn't find it. The tension ran out of him like rainwater and he slumped against the bar. "Yeah, I guess not," he agreed halfheartedly, mind clearly somewhere else. This was doing nothing to clear up Sarah's confusion. She searched for a question to ask, but then Mac arrived and her stomach informed her that a meal was more important.

            The bartender had outdone himself. There was a heaping bowl of thick stew, a plate of warm dinner rolls and sliced fruits, bread pockets stuffed with cold meat, a rind of cheese the size of her hand, a salad, and a tall glass of water (which was the only thing Sarah drank).  Mac balanced it all expertly on his suction-cup hands and spread them onto the bar in front of her.

            Sarah popped a round blue fruit into her mouth and offered her benefactor a roll with her other hand. "You should help me with this, or we'll be here all night," she grinned.

            A high squeak took the Gossamarian by surprise, as did the little pink . . . thing . . . that popped out of the guy's pocket and snatched the bread from her hand. She squeaked herself, yanking her hand back.

            "Morph!" chided the young man. "We just ate!"

            Sarah hid a laugh behind her hand as he tried to catch the thing, but it scooted just out of reach. Watching it move was interesting. Little bits would break off as it bobbed and flowed in motion, then reattach to the main body as it slowed. She could actually see the tabletop through it a bit, though it was mostly a pinkish tint.

            "What is it?"

            "He's—Morph—a morph—I mean." The guy's sentence was chopped as he lunged after the blob repeatedly. It finally took refuge behind her wing, chomping the roll in peace. It was a good hiding place since the human wouldn't come that close to Sarah to reclaim the morph. "He's harmless," he finally added with a shrug of apology.

            She didn't mind the little creature in the least. "And cute too. Oh!" Sarah had turned her head to watch and suddenly she wasn't looking at an amorphous blob, but a tiny Gossamarian. It was herself!

            "Yeah. I think it's an evolutionary trait. Too cute to eat. He likes you."

            There was that sense of humor again. The guy didn't smile, but she could see the mirth in his eyes. "Oh, I know his type. He likes me because I have all the food." In case he was the kind who could make a joke but not recognize one, she grinned at him to show she was kidding. No sense offending the one paying for it all.

            Speaking of which, she realized she hadn't even thanked him for the food. "By the way, thanks Mr. . . . uh, who are you anyway?" He hesitated again, all traces of humor gone. Geesh, was there anything this guy _wasn't_ trying to hide? An instant later she found out exactly what the hesitation was for.

            "Jim Hawkins."

            _Phhhhht__! Sarah spit out the gulp of water she had just taken and whipped her head around to stare, wide eyed. "Jim Haw . . . __the Jim Haw—" Her voice rose an octave in shock._

            "Shhh! I shoulda just made something up," he groaned.

            "_The Jim—"_

            "Yes! Okay? And as wonderful as it would be for the whole room to know, could you please—OW!"

            Sarah jumped, but not as high as Jim. He sprang from his stool, arms out for balance as he wobbled on one foot. When she saw why she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. "Little Brother!" she gasped. Morph, perched on her wing now, made concerned noises in her ear.

            Jim glared at the green creature clamped onto his ankle, who only came up to his knee (not including the row of spikes down the back). Though the legs and paws were more mammalian in shape, the rest of the body was definitely reptilian. And so was the long snout filled with teeth that were currently sunk into his flesh.

            The lizard released him to glare up at Jim's face. "Leave Sarah alone!" he squawked in outrage. "I won't let you hurt her!"

            "Little Brother," repeated Sarah, unable to keep the amusement out of her voice. It was impossible to be serious when a knee-high reptile was growling and standing between you and the guy paying for your dinner. She felt like a damsel being rescued by a spacer in shining battle armor, right out of a tale.

            "This thing is a relation of yours?" Jim grumbled, keeping a wary eye on the diminutive being as he rubbed his abused ankle.

            "No, that's his name. He's a Salcunomadro. They're native to Gossamar too. He wasn't hurting me, you know," she added, addressing the lizard for the last bit.

            "You looked upset, so I came to save you! I'm brave!"

            "Yes. Yes you are." Sarah couldn't keep a smile off her face. Little Brother was a true friend. Other than her father, the little Salcunomadro was all she had. "We've known each other since we were little," she explained to Jim, who still looked peeved. "The Salcunomadro don't choose their names until they're adults. That's why he's just Little Brother." She turned to her old friend, beginning to feel dizzy holding two conversations at once. "I wasn't upset, I was just surprised. Little Bro, this is—"

            "Waaaaiiitt. . . ."

            "—_the_ Jim Hawkins!" She tried to keep her voice down, but she couldn't help her excitement. She was sitting next to a living legend! All at once it occurred to the girl exactly what she had been doing before her new acquaintance had called her name. She could feel her cheeks burn as she whipped her head around to stare at the human, completely ignoring Little Brother's exclamation of surprise.

            "Oh no," she gasped. They both turned to her. "You heard—I was—Oh, I can't believe—I—" she stuttered.

            The fumbling words halted as a wide grin transformed his face. Wow, he looked . . . nice, that way. Wow. He should definitely do that more often. Wait, he was saying something.

            ". . . .was interesting. Not, uh, _true. But interesting."_

            She gulped water to cool her flaming cheeks. "I'm so sorry. Yeah, I made it up. I mean, I know the stuff everyone's heard. There was a map and pirates and the whole planet blew up. I just filled in the rest. I never would have told it if I knew you were sitting right here. Seriously." She was babbling. From his expression, it was amusing him.

            There was only so much embarrassment Sarah could take. Unable to think of anything else, she dug into the satchel at her side and pulled out her telenstrument to be a distraction. From habit she drew the instrument's neck strap over her head.

            "What's that?" He was polite enough to allow the change of subject. Not many men in Port City were that polite. Or polite at all. It was a nice change.

            "Was my ma's, once. It's a telenstrument. Ever heard of one?" She glanced up from her instrument in time to catch some fleeting expression leave his face. Only blank curiosity remained as he shook his head negatively. "Music from pure thought. It produces different notes based on mental waves." She held up the cord coming from one side and pressed the end, tipped with a suction cup, to her temple. "See, this end is the mind scanner. And these are the different instrument sounds I can recreate." She ran her fingers over the instrument's row of buttons, pressing the ones for percussion and string sounds. She played a quick rift from Etherium Melody, the song she had been playing earlier that night. It was one of her favorites.

            "Nice. You're good."

            "Sarah is the best, Mr. Hawkins, sir!" enthused Little Brother. "And nobody  taught her or nothing! She's a genius!" The little creature's big yellow eyes gleamed with something akin to hero-worship. What Jim didn't realize yet was that Little Brother's intense admiration was directed at him, not at Sarah. But she kept that thought to herself.

            "Yeah, I'm so smart I'm stuck here scrabbling for every coin that falls in the gutter on the street." The telenstrument picked up on her abrupt mood swing and blurted out a flat note before she yanked the scanner from her head. What she had meant to sound flippant had come out bitter instead. Little Brother thumped his tail anxiously on the ground. Jim was staring at her, not with pity like she feared, but with understanding. "Uh," she coughed, "money. Heh. They say it doesn't truly make you happy anyway."

            Uncomfortable silence fell. Sarah couldn't think of anything to say. Who was she to complain about life to Jim Hawkins, the one who battled pirates and faced down the wonder of Treasure Planet? How could he even show such interest in a girl like her after doing all that?

            Oh, wonderful. Now she was feeling sorry for herself. Time to get out of this situation.

            Sarah put away her telenstrument and stood. She signaled Mac, who came to wrap up the food they hadn't finished. Not that there wasn't a thousand questions she'd like to ask Jim Hawkins, but being poor didn't mean she had no dignity. "It's late," she said with some regret. "My da'll be worried. Thank you again for dinner, Mr. Hawkins."

            "Jim," corrected the male youth automatically. He stood as well. What, was he going to follow her home? "I'm sorry if—"

            She shook her head. "No, it's fine. Better than fine. It was great meeting you. I just have to go."

            "Sarah?" Little Brother sounded confused. He didn't understand, she knew.

            "Never mind, Little Bro," she smiled at her friend. "You should be getting home too." The bartender returned with the doggie bag. She checked to make sure her earnings were safely in her satchel, nodded a last acknowledgement to Jim, and made for the door.

            "Sarah, wait!" called Jim. He sounded frustrated once again. She turned back with a smile. "I, ah, still don't know my way around Gossamar. Could I hire you to show me around?"

            Part of her wanted to leap at the chance. She would get to hang around with Jim Hawkins! His stories of adventures alone would be worth it. And it wasn't like she had anything else to do, after all. But her pride made her hang back. She had embarrassed herself tonight, something she didn't like one bit, and if she left now she wouldn't have to deal with the situation again. Also, a niggling question added to her unease. Why was he showing such an interest in her? If she could figure out the answer to that she'd feel much better.

            Perhaps that was what made her nod in answer to his question. "Tomorrow," she insisted.

            "Tomorrow," he agreed, his face showing relief. The human slumped back into his stool and seemed about to say something else. The Gossamarian couldn't handle any more awkward conversations. She turned back to the door and left the Gentle Inn, a grinning Little Brother at her heels.

            "Well good night," Jim said wryly to the closed door Sarah had just exited through. He was one confused young man. There was something about this girl, and he had to find out what. It couldn't be coincidence that she and his mother shared the same name and he had just happened to meet her here, where his mother had once lived. But what the connection was, he couldn't guess. Her father's name, Harley Stevenson, didn't sound like anyone his mother had ever mentioned.

            Besides, she seemed like a nice girl. He wanted to help her, if he could. Despite not knowing what to say to her half the time. Tomorrow he'd—

            "Aw, man," he groaned. It just occurred to him he had no idea where she lived, or where and when she wanted to meet. Jim leaped up from the stool for the third time that night. He dug into his pocket and spilled a handful of coins onto the tabletop. "I'll be back," he told the Ellenvood barkeep, who was wearing a particularly knowing expression that annoyed the youth. He checked to make sure Morph was still sleeping in his pocket, grabbed up his duffel bag from the floor, and zipped out the door.

            The Gossamarian night was dark with only a single, small, yellow moon to light it. Glass lanterns were set up on poles along the cobblestone streets to provide more illumination for travelers. Jim held his breath and listened. It hadn't been more than a minute since Sarah and her little friend had left, but he didn't hear anything now. As far as he could see, there wasn't anyone else out in the streets at the moment.

            Well, it had looked like Sarah was heading left with the closing of the door. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his jacket and trotted down the sidewalk, still listening. Some insects or other small animals were making soft whining noises in the distance. A loud voice came suddenly from the dwelling he was passing. The next noise he identified was loud enough to come from the street. He slowed as he approached a corner turning left. Another crash like the first, close by, made him stop altogether.

            "Ya can't dance on crates forever," came the familiar voice of the Cerulean from the inn, Shingsti. "Come down and pay and I'll let ya run along home intact." Laughter like rocks crashing together followed.

            Jim was rounding the corner even before the voice of Sarah rang out in angry retort. "Leave me alone, Shingsti! You caught me off guard yesterday, but I'm not giving in to you again!"

            The sight was an ugly one. The Cerulean was almost seven feet tall, with four muscular arms on his torso and heavily clawed feet. An aquatic spine ran from his stumpy head to his short tail. Long, jagged fangs sprouted from under tiny eyes burrowed beneath heavy brows. His blue hide was thick enough that the flimsy vest and shorts he wore seemed comical. What wasn't funny was the fact that this brute's opponent was a scrawny girl wearing sandals, patched pants and a shirt so big the sleeves went past her wrists. The thin line of blood trailing down her left cheek kindled enough anger in Jim to chase out any thought of alerting the authorities that had been drilled into him by the Academy.

            "I think you should reconsider this choice of action, sir," he called out strongly. His training was coming to him unconsciously, just as his instructors said it would. He kept his eyes on Shingsti but searched his peripheral vision for possible weapons, routes of escape, or any other people in the vicinity. He judged the distance between himself and the Cerulean, estimating the time it would take for him to approach if he attacked. He did the same for the civilian, debating how he could reach her in time if Shingsti made a move.

            At his words the bulky alien had turned from his quarry. If being outnumbered alarmed Shingsti at all, he didn't show it. As a matter of fact, he pulled his jaw into a grin that said he wasn't displeased with the situation at all.

            Sarah gave an exclamation of shock at seeing Jim, and Shingsti glanced back her way. Jim immediately latched onto the tactical advantage. In their current positions, the Cerulean could only keep one of them in his sights at a time. The human took a few steps sideways, putting himself directly across from Sarah, with Shingsti between them. The alien's back was to him at the moment as he barked threats at the girl, so Jim motioned with his hand for Sarah to run. She scowled and shook her head.

            "Oh no?" growled Shingsti, who thought she was answering his demand to climb down from the row of tall crates she was perched on top of. She had obviously been using them to keep her distance, as two further down the line were smashed to pieces with goods spilling in the street. Apparently Shingsti was too cumbersome to climb up and get her. "Then perhaps I'll just break ya friend as incentive," the alien snarled. Without warning he whirled and sprang at Jim.

            Jim was expecting something along these lines, so he wasn't caught completely off guard. He wanted to dodge right, which would move him toward the open street and give him more room to maneuver. Unfortunately Shingsti was well aware of this. He lunged at Jim at an angle, forcing the youth to retreat to his left. Within four steps his shoulder struck the wall of the building that the crates were stacked in front of.

            Shingsti followed him relentlessly. Jim needed a weapon, or a diversion that would give him time to move. He shifted his duffel bag in preparation to throw it at the hulking brute.

            Before he could finish the movement, a furious screech ripped the air. Jim recognized it, but it took him completely by surprise. He'd never heard Morph sound so angry before! He didn't have time to stop the little blob as Morph popped out of his pocket and flew straight at Shingsti.

            In the three years Jim had toted the shapeshifter around he had yet to find anything that could seriously hurt the little guy. There wasn't much that one could do to something with such a loose configuration of molecules. Because of this, he wasn't overly concerned for Morph's welfare. But he did keep his eyes on them as he edged around the Cerulean, who no longer had an interest in him.

            Shingsti took a swing at the morph hovering in front of him, but Morph ducked past the two fists. Stretching out into a long thin robe, Morph encircled the thug's thick ankles and tied himself into a tight knot. Jim bolted as all four of Shingsti's arms pinwheeled the air, trying to stay upright.

            He halted in front of the crate Sarah clung to; she stared down at him with wide and frightened eyes. No time to console her now. A plan was forming in his head almost too fast for him to straighten it out. "Tip it this way!" he insisted urgently, glancing behind him just in time to see Shingsti lose the battle and tumble to the ground. Perfect. But the Gossamarian hadn't moved, confusion written across her face. "The crate," he clarified. "Quick!" Finally her eyes lit up, and he knew she guessed his plan. He took off to round the crates at a run.

            Things were happening so fast that Sarah could hardly keep her head from spinning. It took her agonizingly long moments to realize Jim wanted her to tip over her perch to fall on Shingsti, and when she did she couldn't believe she hadn't thought of it herself. The things were huge and heavy, and at the very least it would slow her attacker down considerably. She scrambled onto the crate beside her own and grabbed the edge of the one she just vacated, yanking with all her strength. When it wouldn't budge she fought rising panic and shifted her stance, hooking one leg around the edge of the crate she sat on now. With this added leverage she could feel the crate shift just a fraction.

            On the ground below Shingsti managed to roll onto his back, still fighting to reach his fettered ankles. He cast a gaze up at her and snarled his rage, narrowed eyes almost disappearing under his heavy brows. The frightening sight gave Sarah a burst of strength. The crate tipped a fraction more.

            Suddenly it was much lighter, taking her by surprise. She turned her head away from her attacker, found Jim had worked his fingers under the bottom edge and was pulling upward. Together it only took them a moment more before the tall wooden box tipped away from Jim and fell over with a crash. He had judged perfectly. The crate fell directly onto Shingsti, and his roar of anger was abruptly silenced. Dust billowed and obscured Sarah's sight of everything.

            "You okay?" Jim called to her, waiting for a somewhat shaky confirmation before making his way back around the row of crates. "Stay up there until I check things out," he told her.

            The dust had settled enough for him to easily make out her expression. She hovered between remaining unease and offense. "I'm not helpless," she finally insisted, but made no move as he asked.

            Jim didn't answer, as he couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't sound patronizing. Instead he focused on the potential danger. Metal bolts for galley engines littered the ground. Well, that would explain the crate's heft. Broken planks and bolts shifted. Jim tensed. With an anxious squeak Morph slithered out. He looked around, spotted Jim, then shot over to cling to his cheek and quiver.

            He gave the little guy a comforting pat, murmuring thanks. Most of his attention was focused on the fallen figure. Training insisted on checking the alien's injuries.

            "What are you doing?!" Sarah hissed, watching him climb through the wreckage and grab one of the Cerulean's thick wrists. He ignored her until he was satisfied with the steady thump under his fingers. Just knocked out then.

            Only then did he look up at the girl over his shoulder. "You can come down. He's not getting up anytime soon." He heard her leap to the ground as he checked for broken bones or life-threatening injuries. Lucky for the port flotsam, his thick skin protected him. "We have to find a constable, or some kind of authority," he growled to himself. Jim wanted this guy behind bars.

            Sarah's green eyes widened in alarm and disbelief. She couldn't believe this was Jim Hawkins, who fought pirates and sailed solar galleons. How could he do all that and not know how things were in a place like this? She grabbed his arm. "Jim, no."

            "Hmm? Sarah, there's not going to be any trouble convincing the authorities that you were attacked. You won't get in trouble."

            Sarah snorted, unimpressed by this new side of his character. The fabled Jim Hawkins sailed with pirates and stood before her dressed to fit in with a bar crowd. And yet he didn't understand the first thing about port life? "Don't you know how things like this work?" she demanded. Her hero-worship was lost. The Jim Hawkins she knew from stories was the best spacer, the best fighter, fearless and a champion. He wasn't a young man who fumbled for words, embarrassed her, and tried to play by the rules when anyone could see that just wouldn't work. "If we do anything, his buddies will be after us before the ink is dry on the list of charges."

            There was no reply. Jim only stared at her, taken aback, and she sighed. "Look, it's not like I'm not grateful. Thank you, for your help. But dragging the authorities into this is only going to make it worse. Maybe now at least Shingsti will think twice before jumping me. That's enough for me."

            Suddenly the take charge, by-the-book person before her returned to the young man she met at the inn, with a sarcastic teenage expression of his own. "If you think this is going to do anything but make a guy like that more angry, then I'm not the only naive one here," Jim retorted. Sarah didn't give an inch, staring him in the eye, shoulders back, wings up. After a moment of this face off Jim threw up his hands. "Fine, whatever. But let's get out of here. I _don't want to be around when he wakes up."_

            She nodded, satisfied, and turned on her heel. Jim followed her without much thought as she walked along, himself unsatisfied with the incident. He hadn't come across the etherium to pick fights with bar scum. It didn't sit well with him, after all the rules and regulations drilled into his head from the Academy. Then again, hadn't he been thinking earlier that he was fed up with playing by the rules?

            Morph, riding on his shoulder, interrupted his thoughts by dipping into his pocket and withdrawing with Jim's handkerchief. The tiny shapeshifter floated before Sarah's face and trilled.

            She turned to Jim questionably; he pointed to the left side of his own face in explanation. "You're bleeding," he said, not without concern.

            The sixteen-year-old touched her face, felt her small wound, and accepted the handkerchief with a "thank you" to Morph. She dabbed at the drying blood with a wry grimace. "His fists are quick," she remarked as indifferently as she could.

            "What's he got against you?" demanded Jim.

            "Who needs a reason?" She shrugged. "I'm an easy hit. Can't put up a fight, alone on the streets most of the time. He got me yesterday when I wasn't paying attention. Took my mother's ring along with my earnings, the bastard. . . ." She trailed off uncomfortably, obviously saying more than she meant to.

            Concern overrode Jim's own embarrassment. "Why aren't you in school?" he asked with surprised.

            "What is this, an interrogation?!" snapped the female, whirling at him in frustration. "If you must know, Mr. infamous Jim Hawkins, my da is sick. Real sick. And we weren't exactly rich to begin with, and now he can't work so it's up to me to bring in enough to put bread on the table and pay for doctors and medicine. There. Are you satisfied now?"

            He had the decency to wince and apologize. "I-I'm sorry, Sarah. I didn't mean to—"

            "Of course you didn't," she snorted. "And stop following me. I can't show up with a boy at my house. My da'll—I don't want to upset him. I'll come back to the Gentle Inn tomorrow morning. You're staying there, right?"

            "Uh, yeah." Jim blinked, further surprised that she still wanted to associate with him at all. "Um, until tomorrow then." The young male searched for something more upbeat to say. He didn't want the night to end on such an uncomfortable note. "Hey," he finally spoke up, as she was turning away. He mustered a grin. "Don't bring that green guy with you, 'kay? I don't really think much of people whose first impression is to chew my ankles off."

            He was glad when she chuckled appreciatively, accepting his attempt at humor. "You leave my best friend out of this," she volleyed back, grinning.

            Remembering all of a sudden, he added, "Hey, he was with you when you left. He's okay?"

            "Sure," she nodded, much more at ease now. "He lives on the other side of town. We split up at the door. And no, I won't bring him tomorrow. I'll see you, Jim." She waved briefly before taking off at a jog.

            _Probably thinks I am__ desperate enough to follow her home, Jim reflected. He'd certainly made it seem like it with the number of times that he'd hounded her in the course of one night alone. __I'm such a moron sometimes. Still, he was pretty happy. He wasn't stewing over past memories anymore; he wasn't sitting around accomplishing nothing. And tomorrow he'd spend more time with Sarah Stevenson._

***************

"I've got two friends I'd like ya to meet. Say hello to Mr. Mop and Mrs. Bucket!" Okay, now everyone do this: picture the shape of a mop and a bucket. Now think again about MR. Mop and MRS. Bucket. Right, now tell me Silver doesn't have a dirty mind. :D

Preview for next chapter: A reunion! And that's all I'm going to say. Bwa ha ha. Told you I was evil.


	5. Glossary

**Glossary:**

This is a glossary of all the terminology used in my fanfic, both from the movie Treasure Planet and stuff I made up myself. Includes pronunciations if they were spoken in the movie or from my head. If anything confuses you as you read The Rising and Falling of the Sun feel free to check here. I hope this clears up anything I forgot to explain in the fic. (This will be updated with each new chapter.)

Arcturian solar crystals (ark-TUR-ee-in) – In the movie the narrator says the merchant ship Captain Flint attacks is carrying a "cargo of Acturian solar crystals." You can guess that they're a form of wealth in the Treasure Planet universe. The "making of" book says the fabric of solar sails are made of them.

Amelia, Captain (former) – If you don't know who she is, you haven't seen the movie. In my fic Amelia retired from captaining to raise her children when they became toddlers, but there's nothing official to support this.

Amy – The name of Amelia's oldest daughter, a feline female like her mother. Name chosen by myself, not from the movie.

Arrow, Mr. – Big rock guy from movie. You know who I'm talking about.

Arvian (ARE-vee-in) – A winged creature without limbs. The Gossamarian version of a horse. From fic, not movie, though they look similar to mantabirds. The name comes from avian, another word for bird.

B.E.N. – Arguably the most annoying thing on the big screen.  Personally, I like him. He's shown helping out around the Benbow at the end of the movie, but I think he'd be more likely hiring himself out as a navigator for ships than working at an inn. It's what he's built for and all.

Benbow Inn, The – Rebuilt and better than ever at the end of the movie and in this fic. (Though I don't think it had vines on it anywhere in my movie. Oh well. Creative license.) Someone once asked me exactly what an inn was. I've heard tell it's a combination of a restaurant and hotel, so I go with that.

Birdbrain Mary – The weird female alien pirate in the movie. Just a head with legs attached to it and no body (she freaks me out, I'll admit). Name taken from "making of" book, not made up for fic.

Cerulean (sir-OO-lee-in) – My favorite color. LOL. I was amused when I realized it sounded like the name of an alien race, so I decided to make it one. These aquatic aliens from the planet Cer are big and strong, with four muscular arms. Not something you'd want to cross. Unless it makes for a good fight scene in a fanfic, of course.

Crescentia (kreh-SEN-tee-ah) – That white moon thing in the movie. :P

Delbert Doppler, Doctor – If you don't know . . . GO SEE THE MOVIE!

Ellenvood – One of the pirate crewmen in the movie is said to be from the planet Ellenvood, according to the "making of" book. He was the purple seal-guy with the four plungers for hands and the flipper tail with no legs. For the fic I made his species the same name as his planet (like Vulcans in "Star Trek," ya know?).

Empire, the – According to the "making of" book, the setting for the movie is an empire of many planets ruled by a queen. This doesn't come up in the movie, but since the book's official you can take it to be fact.

Etherium (eh-THAIR-ee-um) – I'll quote from the "making of" book: "The ocean upon which Jim Hawkins and the crew of the RLS _Legacy_ navigate their journey is called the 'etherium.' It is an outer space filled with atmosphere. One of the most distinct aspects of the etherium is that this unique 'space ocean' has qualities of both air and water. Space is not a vacuum in this universe, but is living, roiling, and ever changing."

Etherium Melody – The name of the song Sarah plays in the Gentle Inn. I made up the lyrics myself. I think it's pretty. I'd sing it for you all if you could hear me. ^_^

Gentle Inn, The – An Inn located in Port City, on Gossamar. Sarah goes there often to earn money through song and story. I chose the name for the inn to represent how docile the Gossamarians are (though now that I think of it, an alien probably named it, since it's a business in Port City *shrug*).

Gossamar (GAW-sah-mar) – A planet invented for my fic. Jim's mother visited it when she was young. Many of the species here have wings, including the humanoids who are the dominant race of the planet. I got its name from the word "gossamer," meaning light, airy, and delicate.

Gossamarian (gaw-sah-MAR-ee-in) – Though technically all species from Gossamar would be Gossamarians, this is the name I use for the dominant humanoid species that basically runs the planet. They're more simple than other space-going races, having only one combination city and port called Port City. The Gossamarians look human except for wings sprouting from their shoulders and any number of short horns on their foreheads. They glide more than fly, but even to do this they must have hollow bones and a fragile exterior. Gossamarians have a healthy wariness of any other race because they are so delicate, but they tolerate belonging to the Empire because it brings Gossamar money and goods. Not many Gossamarians go anywhere near Port City, because it's populated by so many alien races.

Harklan (HARK-lahn) – A blue, furry species of alien I invented for this fic. Name has no meaning.

Harley Stevenson – Sarah's father. He's sick and the job of keeping them both alive and fed falls to his young daughter.

Insectoid – The word I use for any alien that resembles a bug. Scroop, Runt, etc.

Interstellar Academy – The place that gives Jim his nifty uniform at the end of the movie. ^_^ It wouldn't be any fun if he had to pander to some organization in my fic, so I had him quit. I'm so evil. =)

Jim Hawkins – See: the movie. Duh. In my fic he's eighteen and in need of guidance once again after the death of his mother.

John Silver – Other big guy in the movie. Yeah.

_Legacy_, RLS – That big thing in the movie where they spend most of their time. Right.

Little Brother – A Salcunomadro, and Sarah Stevenson's best friend. Born second in his family, hence the phrase used to describe him is Little Brother. He has the intelligence of a child and loyalty of a faithful dog.

Mac (MACK) – Barkeep and owner of the Gentle Inn on Gossamar. He's an honest guy and just trying to make a living. He keeps an eye on Sarah when she's there earning money. He's an Ellenvood, though very tall for his race (if not he wouldn't be able to see over the bar LOL).

"Making of" book – Yeah, so this isn't really in the fanfic. But if you're wondering what this "making of" book I keep mentioning is, it's called Treasure Planet: A Voyage of Discovery. It's full of cool stuff from behind the scenes and lotsa pics, but not as much as, say, The Art of The Lion King or The Art of Toy Story. (Both books I own as well, and they have tons more info about their movie. Oh well. The Treasure Planet book is still cool.)

Mantabird – You now those white stingray things in the movie that are flying around Crescentia? They're supposed to make you think of seagulls? Those are mantabirds. Name taken from "making of" book.

_Medley_, RLS – A merchant ship carrying cargo to Goassamar that Jim signs up on in my fic. Medley is a word meaning a combination of things, usually used as a music term to mean a combination of songs in a performance.

Montressor (mon-TRESS-er) – Jim's planet, from the movie. A mining planet that's seen better days, according to the "making of" book. Supposed to be always gloomy there, hence the need for the Benbow's cheerful holoblinds in the movie. (Neat tidbit of info: Montressor is French for "my treasure." I KNEW it sounded French!)

Morph – Jell-o puppy thing from movie. Come on, you know him! The cute one! No, not Jim . . . not that I'm saying he's not cute. . . . *shuts up*

Nathaniel Flint, Captain – Grrrr. Evil dude. From movie. Six eyes. I think he looks cool. Makes a nice skeleton.

Point, Admiral – Jim's superior officer in Interstellar Academy from my fic. Not in movie, though he's the same rock race as Mr. Arrow.

Port City – Biggest (only) city on Gossamar. Mostly alien races live and work there. Gossamarians tend to stay clear. Has very tall, metal docking stations at the edge of the city to anchor big etherium-sailing vessels, since the planet has no spaceport. To get goods and travelers down to the surface they must be lowered down the docking stations by cart or other means.

Purp – Purple fruit in movie that looks like a lemon. Grows on Montressor, according to Jim when he meets Silver. You can make juice from it too.

Runt – A friend Jim makes on the _Medley. A small insect-like alien. I made him up for the fic. Named him Runt because he's small, and I guess it's something you might name a pirate. (Hey, one of the pirates was named Dogbreath in the movie, so don't criticize my stupid name. ^_^)_

Salcunomadro (sahl-KOO-no-MAH-droh) – A second intelligent species from Gossamar. They resemble four-legged, dog-sized reptiles with paws and very large eyes (for night vision). Without appendages to manipulate their environment (nope, no thumbs) they didn't evolve into a space-going race. Instead they leave things like that to the Gossamarians. The Salcunomadro don't receive a name until their full maturity. Until then they use descriptive phrases to tell each other apart. Their throats have trouble forming the standard galactic language (known in our world as English, heh heh) so their voices sound awful.

Sarah Hawkins – Jim's mom. In my fic she dies of an unidentified sickness, leaving her son lost and alone despite his friends.

Sarah Stevenson – Half-human, half-Gossamarian. She lives in Port City and fends for herself and her father, who's too ill to do much of anything. Her mother's been in prison since she was little. Her personality is very "I accept whatever life throws at me," which clashes with Jim's "if I don't like it, I change it" mindset. (Better known in the movie as "ya hates ta lose." Thanks, Silver.) And yes, I know her last name is an awful inside joke. Too bad, I like it.

Shingsti  (SHING-stee) – Name of a Cerulean who makes trouble for Sarah on Gossamar. Amusingly, I got the word as a randomized password from school. It sounded like an alien name to me.

Snitch – A Harklan friend that Jim makes on the _Medley. Yes, I'll admit I was picturing Stitch when I thought him up. So sue me. :P_

Solar surfing – It's that thing that Jim does at the beginning of the movie. You know, the thing with the thing? And he goes through that thing and then the cops come? Yeah. . . .

Telenstrument (tell-EHN-strah-ment) – Telepathic instrument. It scans the player's mind to produce different notes when the player thinks of them. The buttons on the instrument are to make tones from different kinds of instruments. Percussion, string, woodwind, etc. It's a whole band in one instrument! I'm a genius! Ahem, yes. Well, I made it up for the fic to help Sarah earn money.

Treasure Planet – Okay, I'm not even going into this one.

_Victory_ – The name Sarah chooses for a longboat in her tale of Treasure Planet.

Zandarian slug – Zandarians are the race of the six-eyed lookout, Onus, in the movie. (I got the name from the "making of" book.) I have no idea where the expression "like a Zandarian slug in a blog pool" came from. Just popped into my head. You can assume, though, that Zandarian slugs in blog pools are very fast. ^_^


End file.
